Are you afraid of being Alone?
by The cliche
Summary: Its been 5years,without contact.Who knew,marriage could ruin Hermione's life?She feels useless,dreamless and...abused. Its way too late to save her now.Until,he appeared in her life as a middleclassed stranger,who seemed..to know her well?
1. I swear that I can go on forever, again

A/N: Another story???? I guess so. I hope this story turns out well (and makes sense). Hopefully I'll get this over by summer (and all those other ones too). LATER!

I think I own the plot. I tried to base it on something, but I ended up fixing the whole thing anyways. The Title "Are you afraid of being alone" is taken from Blink182's _I'm Lost without you._ This chapter's title is also from the lyric.

Disclaimer: I own your dog's chewtoy.

Title: Are you afraid of being Alone?

My Only Love Sprung from My Only Hate, Too early seen unknown and known too late. Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that i must love a loathed enemy.  
-William Shakespear , Romeo and Juliet.

-

ChapterOne. _I swear that I can go on forever again_

-

The floor was cold; it got along well with the temperature. Her eyes were low and full of bitter sorrow. A girl was so full of happiness, once so grateful about the rainbows and butterflies. Not a single glint, any shimmer, or a twinkle found in her faded brown eyes. Her serene facial expression was so very emotionless. Yet she managed to keep it calm and still. But there was a tiny glow found deep within her eyes... but it was to guise the bruises of her soul. But did anybody ever see it?

His yells echoed inside her ears. It won't stop... But it's ok. Everything is ok. She's used to it. It's fine. She loves him...

He loves.... Her?

"Not good enough." That was what he said.

She waited until it ended. Her breathing turned slow and dense. She wiped each teardrop and managed to smile.

"I'll be back soon." She said softly. She got upstairs and walked into the bathroom. Her eyes were tired and sore. Her face has become pale. She turned the cold faucet on and stared at that girl behind the mirror, who stared back at her. Was this really her reflection? She saw nothing from the girl who peered back, except one obvious off coloured blemish. She bore her with her faint face. She wanted to get rid of it. She looked down at the sink and began to wash it off with cold water.

Water dripped down her face...

She replaced her clothes with proper clean ones. She fixed her hair, and sat down. Waiting...

She waited until he was finally gone. She got her purse, and left the door.

- - - 

She had just been fired from her job. But it wasn't quite close to what she loved doing. He was furious.

She headed to the grocery shop nearby. Oh, this was a great time to escape. Maybe to Diagon Alley? No. It wouldn't be a good idea. She's thought of it so many times, but she never got to do it. Easier said than done.

Only if...

She regretted those things she didn't do in the past. She should've done it. Let her feelings go. But no, she didn't. She really didn't...

And now, she said to herself, _Am I happy?_

-- 

She stopped in her tracks when she saw her neighbors doing their daily jolly shopping, walking her way.

I can't let them see me...

She was ashamed.

Of what?

She was alone. She was ashamed.

She walked through a long abandoned alley, a short cut to the local shop near by. He was like a beast, who was as worse as drunk, when hungry. She looked down at her shoes and the wet ground. _Am I normal?_

The alley was dark. What can you expect at 7:30 in the morning? She held her purse tight inside her jacket as she hugged herself when the wind blew. It was errand time...

She stopped suddenly. _What was that? _She looked around to see nothing but shadows of trees, the shadow of the alley walls... shadow of a....

Nope.

She kept walking. Nothing but tree shadows... alley walls...

"Give me money or _I'll kill you _!" __


	2. The face he remembered

****

Chapter 2: The face he remembered

Hermione felt a rush as a rough hand went over her mouth, an arm linked on her neck, a foot on her feet. By the deep voice, she could tell it was a man. Her eyes tried to stay calm, but what really mattered?

__

At least do something. Nudge, kick, twist... pull ... anything?

Nothing. She was weak. She even tried to speak.

"Lady, I'm asking you nicely. Hand me your money - Or who knows how deep this knife will go." He threatened.

__

How the fuck can I do anything when you're body's linked all over me!

As if he could read minds, he let go and walked right in front of her. It was as quick, she didn't even notice. Startled, she tried to stay calm.

__

How is he any different to all the others? They are all the same! Bastard pigs who use you for what they want, that's what they are.

The man was waiting. Waiting for her to punch, kick... attack him back. Like a coward he was, his knife was ready. It was ready to strike.

Her face was looking down. No eye contact. She searched her purse, and pulled out a few. His eyes were watching her. She never looked up....

He waited for her as she searched for her purse. What do women keep in those purses that make money so hard to dig?

She looked up at him, and then snapped back to her purse. She can't show him her eyes... it was disgusting. It wouldn't matter anyways. He'll know she's weak. She knows he can smell it.

He lowered his knife.

For that few seconds, her eyes twinkled, but only because she had tears. He realised her hair was down and was attempted to be combed. Her sad face... it looked so... familiar.

__

It couldn't be.

She lifted her hand, and he put up his knife again, but only because she fixed her hair behind her ears. He saw a bruise around her forehead. A hideous, off-coloured one, on such a pretty face.

__

It couldn't be..

"I- I'm sorry." She said in the most calm, gentle voice. The way she said it... he has never heard it before. She handed him a few paper money and a few quarters. Not very many, for a burglar to expect from a girl like that. "It's all I have. If –you don't mind I kept a couple to buy some for myself, please, I swear it's not even that much. Just let me ... just let me go. Please just let me go..."

__

What... the... hell.

Just let me go? Did she just say that? The man looked at her confused. He could sense the girl's courage. She just showed it in the strangest ways...

She was never like this... giving in like that? The man was speechless. He was shocked. First of all, she gave him her money without trying to hit him back. She gave in like that... she walked away without looking back.

He looked down at his hands. _What have I done... what is the matter? _The sky watered as he stood there. Her silouette was gone. He just stood there- with her money.

Who was she?

He waited.

--- -

Hermione headed home, with nothing but vegetables, bread and some milk. Not even enough to keep him happy. Inside, her heart was beating fast and hard. When he finds out... he won't be too impressed.

She walked home with the grocery bags in her hand, and purse in the other. Her hair was wet as she walked down behind the alley to her house.

This is sick.

--

His eyes snapped up as she walked passed. He followed her.

She started to walk faster. She wanted to go home so desperatley. He was right behind her. His dark cloak danced as the wind blew.

Hermione opened the door and entered the house. She hung up her jacket and put away her shoes.

Her heart was so full of water she had to let it all go. He is at work, so she has the house to herself. She walked towards the dinner table by the window. She sat down and looked at her fingers. They looked so weird. She couldn't believe this is what she had to live through her whole life. What happened to that brave young girl? What about that bright, clever girl? She rested her head on her arms and tears flood her hands.

After a few minutes, Hermione walked towards the kitchen. She searched for some left over vegetables or bread, or anything to go with the food she just brought. She turned on the oven, leaned at the counter and waited. She wiped her eyes with the dry cooking towel, and began adding in carrots in the pan.

The door rang.

"DAMN IT!" she yelped as the oil bounced off the pan and burnt her finger. She looked at the door. _Who could be visiting at this time? This house is haunted._

She walked slowly to the door and even tried to fix her hair. It was so useless now. She opened the door, and he stood there.

The wind blew his hood, revealing his messy blond hair and a face that was cold sober and steady.

Her mind was messing with her. "Yes?" she asked a confused look in her face.

He didn't say a word.

"Look, I'm sorry, some guy just already visited a few days ago... with those subscription surveys and if that's what yo-- "

He lifted his hand up to show her a few paper money and coins. His face never changed expressions. Hermione looked at his hand, and then at his face.

" Um...? " she didn't understand. Who does this guy think he is?

Finally he gave her an are-you-stupid look. "Well?"

"What are you talking about?"

She didn't know what to say. Honestly, what kind of burglar turns up at your front door just to give your money back? "Who do you think you are? Do you enjoy stealing people's money then stalk them back to their houses?"

"Wha-?" The man was disbelieved. He was trying to give it back to her and do something good in his life, and here there she stood, making him still look like a bad guy? "Look Gra—lady, it was yours, yes, I took it from you, and now I'm giving it back. Take it back, I dont want it."

Hermione looked up at him. He was tall. His hair was longer and his eyes were piercing gray. They were transfixed to hers. It made her head sting.

He didn't look like a burglar. He looked like, a famous hearthrobbing actor – or somebody that can fool anybody with those looks.

She didn't speak. Still confused.

"Well? Take it."

"It's too late now." She said.

Why is she refusing? What was she trying to do?

"Hey listen, I don't have all day alright? You either take the money, or... you take the money." He stayed at his spot, "I dunno, you pick one."

"Why?"

"What?!" ... where is she trying to get to?

"Why are you doing this?"

"Well why not? Can't a guy feel bad?" He forced the money on Hermione's hand. She wouldn't take it. "Ok, I didn't put a bomb in there, poison, or anything like that whatsoever."

She kept looking at him. He couldn't bear her watching her like this "Uh... so... it's safe to take it back. " He was never comfortable around her. It always felt awkward, especially with her right in front of him. "You know, other ladies would be proud and celebrate that they got their money back. I guess you're not normal."

__

Not normal... Of course... That hit Hermione. She slammed the door on him, but his reflexes stopped it from closing. She still didn't speak. He's still a stranger... she stayed calm.

His hand was still, holding out the money to her. Her hands trembled... how bad could it be? The many was trying to return something he stole...

She reached out for the money and put it in her pocket slowly. She was still pretty confused.

"Well," the guy raised his brow, "Now that that's taken care of. See ya...... Lady." He turned around and walked down the step.

"Wait a second..." she called out, "Do you have time to stay in for tea maybe?"

__

What are you doing to yourself! Welcoming a stranger in your house for tea? I still have another few hours...

The man raised a brow. Why is she inviting me over? Way too unreal. Way too weird. "No. No I can't. I'm just a thief to you, remember?"

__

I can't believe she doesn't remember... why would it matter? She never cared. ..Well, why WOULD it matter? She's probably happy the way she is, living her dream... her life so perfect like she she always lived it as a filthy little – well, just as long as she doesn't find out who I am.

__

Thanks...Thank you... Thanks for your- Thank you very -- "Bye." He said quickly.

She watched him run down the steps and disappeared. She closed the door and went back to the kitchen, only to find out one of her carrots burnt. It didn't matter... for a long long time, someone had done something to make her feel, like she mattered...


	3. The truth?

****

A/n: Woo... 3 days late of updating.

Chapter 3: The truth?

Hermione went to bed that night. She couldn't even take a shower, and she felt disgusted. Her body felt so sore, tired and cold. She took a towel that she had re-used, that was dipped in a bowl with water that went warm. Each night she'd dubbed her towel onto her shoulders, and if possible, her back. His room was on the next room. She couldn't bear the fact that they had to sleep separated. Why did it have to end up this way?

Why couldn't have been somewhere peaceful? Maybe, a place where they would do what they wanted or loved to do. She dreamed that she would be gardening, or watering the plants, or at working hard on something; he would come out with cold tasty drinks. He would tell her, in his gentlest, softest, lovable voice, _"Give it a break, honey. I'll take care of the rest"_ . She never even asked for children. Even though she adored them. They didn't even have to if he didn't want to. She thought maybe, if they did make a family: she envisioned a little baby boy, he would run up to hug daddy, then kiss mummy on the cheek. And finally he would reach the age of 13, where maybe he would be accepted to Hogwarts, make friends, go through things but hopefully not the types she had to go through. But this was all happening in her head. She dreamed of at least... at least a hug?

She dreamed of a better life.

....She closed her eyes, and dreamed a nightmare.

Knock Knock.

Hermione was still asleep as someone tapped on the door. Her body was curled up; her arms were tucked in carefully. The only time she moved was when she had to pull up her blankets when they fell on the floor.

Seven thirty. Hermione went downstairs to make something. He wasn't home. She had the house to herself, again. This was her time of freedom. She wanted to make something, like a nice breakfast meal: eggs, maybe bacon. But she hadn't bought too much, because of yesterday. More swelling.

__

Oh... she remembered. She didn't lose any money after all.

"_Seven Thirty?!" _she looked at the clock. She shouldn't have woken up this early. She should be grocery picking right now.

After fixing herself up, not even bothering to put on make up. Really, she has never been fond of make up, but in this case she had to get used to it. She grabbed a random shirt, because she didn't really care. Nobody wanted to look at her anyways. Nobody wanted to see her look nice anyways. Who'd see her, anyways? She grabbed a sweater, then her purse.

She opened the door only to find, a fancy looking envelope lying on her front door. Without hesitating, _Dumb surveys, _she opened the envelope. It looked like it has been opened once before?

__

What? She asked herself. Who sent this letter? It said nothing. The piece of paper looked like it has been ripped and re-used. She flipped it on the other side where it said:

__

Thanks.

Huh? What was this all about? Thanks? Thanks for what? Okay. Wrong house. She couldn't waste any more time thinking. She shoved the envelope in her purse and started to walk.

Hermione walked out of the grocery shop, with a plastic bag of food that she hadn't gone to buy the day before.

As she walked, the noticed the entrance alley. The abandoned alley she had been walking through yesterady. _Never am I walking there again, _she told herself. _Weird people linger there._

Right as she passed the end of the alley, all she wanted to think of was to get home fast and rest. It wasn't good staying up late and waking up early. She wasn't getting that ordinary 8 hours of sleep thing.

In time, somebody snatched her arm. _What the-_

"What do you want-" she turned to see the same looking stranger she had encountered yesterday. "... You."

"Yes, me." He said coolly.

"I'm sorry mister, I used the money." She said in a shaky voice. He still clinged on her arm.

"No, I don't want it."

"Then?" she looked at him, then at the arm he was still holding, "Do you like my arm?"

His brow went up. "Because I can't let you steal it and return it." Realising what his hand was holding, he quickly snatched it away.

She didn't even fix it. She didn't even slap him. She turned and walked away. Her sweater went loose, which revealed part of her back and arm.

"Wait." He said. She turned around with a strange expression.

"Yes?"

"What's that?"

__

What the hell. Hermione was already lost in her head; she didn't need no wacko to make her even more lost.

"Uh .. ?"

The man walked up to her and pointed at her purple swollen bruises, engraved on her back and some on her arm.

Hermione followed the man's gaze and it landed on body. The back and arm. She snapped her head back at him, "I don't know what you're talking about." She lifted up her sweater, but a little too much....

__

Bastard. What gave him a right to talk to me like that. He has no right! He is nothing but a filthy little—

Whoops.... did she say that a little too loud?

His brow raised.

...and she walked away.


	4. Take Flight

Chapter 4: Take Flight

"Please let me know that my one bad day will end"

His brow raised.

...and she walked away.

"What's this?" he scowled. Drunken. Again. Two hours worth, oven burns...for what? Nothing.

Another bruise is earned. He throws the gold and white plate across the dining room. Her heart pounces again; its daily routine.

"What have I told you?" he growled. Words were slurred and blurred. She hoped she could do something, say something. Clear liquid was on the way of her eyes.

T'was another peaceful night.

The sun rose on the east. No rooster crowed that morning. Surprised, she remembered how to breathe. She fixed herself cold soup. Trembling, she managed to scoop in and feed her mouth.

This is way too much...

He was at work.

Her mind was disabled, and she couldn't think well. There was no glowing exit sign anywhere. It wasn't easy to say, please give up and let's live a wonderful life. No. There was no escape.

The door was to her right. She needed some air.

Barefooted, as though she had just escaped from mental prison. Her hair was a mess, but who cared? Her visage was covered with sorrow. It wasn't Hermione. At least... it didn't look it. She was a paper princess, easily ripped and crumpled to throw away.

She looked at the window. A dark figure appeared at the front of her door.

What in the world.... ...

She hurried to open the door, as her eyes caught the devious hand that sneaked up a piece of envelope on her doorstep.

"Excuse me? What in the hell do you think you're doing? Who the _hell_ are you, randomly approaching my property and leaving letters? This is all just fun and games to you, isn't it?" The man froze, he didn't speak. "Come on. Show yourself. Are you a man?"

"Try again." He spoke at last. His body remained bowed, yet his head looked up at hers. His still gray eyes... so focused and straight.

What the fuck? Who the hell does he think he is? Barging in randomly all the time?

"I don't believe this," she said in disbelief, "Really, who are you?"

His smirk made her stomach flip sideways and back.

"You don't even remember?"

Her mouth opened to speak, but then she closed it. She opened again... and closed.

"I- "

He was coming. His car was parked ahead, and her eyes can see the distance. She could feel his presense. He was coming.

She panicked. She closed the door. Someone stopped it.

"Leave."

"What?"

"Leave. Now. Please, leave now. My- My hu-hus- please."

"I.."

"Fucking leave now."

He spoke no more.

"I SAID, LEAVE!" She pushed him away, and he disappeared.

He disappeared out of thin air, leaving Hermione looking confused. He disappeared like he was never there. It was like he –

Hermione closed the door.

Why wasn't he at work?

---

A/n: ok this chapter made no sense. Review anyways.


	5. Vision and scenery

Chapter 5: Vision and scenery

I wrote her another note. Did she get the previous one?

Just as I placed the letter at the front of the doorstep, it was too late to apparate. She opened the door.

"Excuse me? What in the hell do you think you're doing? Who the hell are you, randomly approaching my property and leaving letters? This is all just fun and games to you, isn't it?" she said, almost with pride. "Come on. Show yourself. Are you a man?"

Am I man? What kind of question is that? _Am I a man. _I happen to be a man.

I spoke, as I looked up at her surprised eyes. Actually, I wasn't sure what she was thinking. She says she doesn't believe it, and once again asks who I am.

It's official, she forgot. She even forgot my face? Who could forget such face?

The conversation was going well for me, torturing her to guess my name. Like Chieftain Rumplestiltskin, without the hay. For a second, I thought she was right about to remember.

Not for long, she kicked me out. I saw fear in her eyes, and despair in the way she spoke. I loved the look. I loved the tease. This was what I've wanted her to look at me like. With Fear.

Until seconds, I figured out it wasn't I who she looked at with dread. She cursed. Needn't to ask more questions.

About to apparate, I stayed still. She pushed me and I stayed invisible. I watched her look around, and close the door. Did she forget all about invisibility?

She forgot all about it...

I wonder what else she forgot?

I felt the wind behind me. Someone was coming. A man with dark shabby hair. He looked like a nice fellow. Oh I see... Granger married him I guess. From the distance, it looked like Potter without the glasses. But I knew it wasn't Potter. Potter wasn't that good looking of a fellow.

You can just tell.

I watched them at the window. He pulled her close. Classic and cheesy. He pulled her close... though not from her hips, but by her arms. He shook her rapidly. Her eyes looked down at her feet as I saw her say something. I didn't think he heard, for he pushed her to the table. He pointed somewhere, I couldn't see. She was sobbing.

I've never seen her cry. I wished I saw her cry. How I enjoyed the feeling of seeing her cry, for I've longed to see it in years. But something made me stop to think. It more than just tears of hurt. There was pain, agony, discomfort and the many colours of darkness. You would think that there would be happiness found in her, but I saw none. It was what made me itch and envy her during the previous years, when I'd see her so happy all the time. It was something I could never get, her attention was something I wanted and couldn't get. For a mudblood, she didn't deserve it. And she certainly didn't deserve _this._

Visions of Lucius appeared in front of me. I saw the Lucius in that man. I saw myself in _her_. Never the less did I enjoy the feeling of being brutally beaten by your own father. I knew what she felt.

But I didn't know the feeling of being jailed in there, unable to free or save myself. I knew how to protect my own body, she didn't. She was weak. Weaker. Since when did she become so forceless?

My head and her fist during a few years back in school didn't seem so weak to me.

Violent scenes reflected through my mind as I watched her beloved break her heart. Castagated. Her body was fragile, but he cared no less.

I watch with disbelief. I didn't think this was what muggles like to do. I didn't see a wand. Not even from her. She let him do this to her? Is this what muggles like to call LOVE?

Pathetic.

I saw him snatch something from the table. Something inside me leaped up like a reflex on your knee. I grabbed my wand and yelled.

Bright light shined from inside. His body layed on the ground motionless. Her face turned pale and swollen.

What the fuck did I do?


End file.
